If in Doubt
by KatyMM
Summary: A longish One shot.  This was written for Chelsy.  So obviously it's a Hurt!Sam story!


The bullet slammed into the back of Sam's arm. At first, apart from the thump as it hit, he felt no pain. Seconds later though, after it had passed through the skin and muscle of his bicep, and burst through the other side, his legs buckled under him and he fell to his knees. Dean grabbed him, pulled him up and put his good arm over his shoulder, literally dragging him along.

Sam was in a daze. The whole of his arm and shoulder were on fire and warm sticky liquid was dripping from his fingers, leaving a potential trail for Hendrickson to follow. Still it was dark and the rain would help wash it away – at least that's what Dean hoped. He stopped and as gently as he could, let Sam sink to the ground, his back against a tree on the verge next to the sidewalk. He tore off a section of his shirt and tied it as tightly as he dared, around his brother's upper arm. It couldn't stay on there long but he had to stop the blood long enough to get away from Hendrickson. Sam's eyes were half shut and though it was dark, Dean could tell he had all the signs of someone going into shock. He put his hands either side of Sam's face and gently lifted his head up. "Come on Sammy, stay with me here." Sam's eyes flickered open and he looked up at Dean.

"Sam, just try to stay awake, would ya? I have to find somewhere to leave you while I get some help. So you have to help me to get you up on your feet, okay?"

"M'kay."

Dean got his arms under Sam's armpits and heaved. Sam cried out at the wrench to his injured arm but there was nothing Dean could do about it. He had to get Sam up and moving.

Finally Sam was standing, albeit very unsteadily. Dean supported him as best he could and they stumbled along until Dean spotted a small park with bushes and trees around it. Going in he steered his brother towards the nearest clump of bushes and manoeuvred him as far into them as he could. They were both rain sodden and covered in mud. Dean tried to wipe off as much as he could from his hands. "Sorry Sammy, I'll be back as fast as I can – hang in there okay?" There was no answer.

Dean ran out of the park, heading for the hospital. He had a plan. It wasn't really a very good one but it was the best he could come up with. Arriving at the hospital, he made his way to the staff parking area and waited. Rain trickled down through his scalp and down the back of his neck, the chill of it making him shiver. Fortunately he didn't have to wait too long before a likely candidate emerged from the hospital staff entrance. A young woman, white coat draped over her arm, was running through the rain straight towards him. He waited until she had pushed the button on her car keys to open the doors and then emerged right behind her. He clamped a hand over her mouth and encircled her waist with his other arm to keep her from bolting. She struggled violently but she was no match for him.

"Lady, I'm not going to hurt you." She continued to struggle. Dean wasn't surprised. He hated to do this and knew she must be terrified, but Sam was his priority.

"Listen, I know you're scared, but I promise I won't hurt you. I need your help." She went still.

"My brother is hurt and needs medical help. You look like you're a doctor. If I take my hand away is there any chance you won't scream?" She still didn't move. Dean removed his hand. She screamed. He clamped his hand over her mouth again. Damn, he thought, we'll have to do this the hard way!

"Okay, I have a gun. If you don't do what I tell you, I will shoot you. Do you understand?" She mumbled something into his hand and of course he couldn't make it out. He tentatively took his hand away again. "Do you understand?"

"Yes"

"Good. Now I need you to take a look at my brother. He's been shot and I think he's going into shock."

"W where is he?" Her voice shook but she seemed to be holding it together.

"Get in the car and I'll take you to him. Do you have any medical stuff with you?"

"I have a medical kit in the trunk. It's only basic stuff though. You need to take him to an ER."

"You know I can't do that with a bullet wound."

"Criminals then." It was a flat statement from the woman. Dean looked at her as she drove. He could totally understand her reaction.

"We're not criminals. We're the good guys but it's …. complicated."

"Sure, whatever. Is this the park?"

"Yeah, pull over as near the entrance as you can. And please don't try anything stupid. I don't plan on hurting you, but right now I'll do anything to get my brother some help."

They got out and approached the clump of bushes. Dean had taken the car keys and now had to hope the woman wouldn't run off while he dragged Sam out.

"What's your name lady?"

"Michelle, what's yours?"

"It's Dean and this is my brother Sam." Sam was unconscious and Michelle instinctively went to take his pulse. It was weak and his skin was clammy and cold, though the weather would have made it like that in any event. In the dark it was hard to see much.

"I think you're right. He could be in shock. I can't do anything for him here though. I need light to see and he needs to be got warm and dry." She looked up at Dean whose brow was furrowed in thought.

"Where do you live Michelle?"

"I live near here but we can't go there, my flatmate …."

"Sorry Michelle but we don't have a choice. If your flatmate co-operates, no one is going to get hurt and as soon as you've fixed Sammy up, we'll be gone and you can go back to normal."

Dean hefted Sam into his arms and staggering under the weight, managed to get him into the back seat of Michelle's car. Michelle got behind the wheel and Dean handed over the keys.

"How long has that tourniquet been on his arm?"

"Uh, I guess something like 20 or 30 minutes. Too long right?"

"Yeah, we need to get that off straight away when we get to my place."

"How long til we get there?"

"We're here." Michelle pulled up outside an older style building with wide steps leading up to an entrance porch. Dean groaned inwardly. Getting Sam up those was going to be a bitch.

"Which floor are you on?"

"The basement – junior doctors don't get the big bucks."

Dean heaved a sigh of relief. He carried Sam down the three steps leading to the basement apartment, pausing while Michelle unlocked the door.

"Wait! Where will your flatmate be?"

"There is no flatmate. I just said that to put you off. Didn't work."

Going inside Michelle switched the lights on and lead Dean into a small apartment. It was quite messy but cosy. "Here, lay him on the couch and get his jacket and shirt off. I'm going to get some blankets."

Dean looked up at her after depositing Sam's limp form on the couch. "Michelle you wouldn't be going to call the police from your bedroom, now would you?"

"There's no phone in my bedroom – I'm going to get the gun I keep under my pillow…" Dean couldn't help but smile. The girl had spirit!

Moments later she was back with the blankets and was opening her medical kit bag. Dean had been struggling to get the sodden jacket off Sam when she pushed him aside and started cutting his clothes off with what looked like a pair of mini shears. In moments the jacket, a shirt and tee-shirt were in tatters on the floor. Sam stirred but didn't wake. Michelle examined the wound which was now flowing freely with blood. It wasn't spurting though, so it wasn't as bad as it might have been. She cleaned up the entrance and exit wounds and then applied a dressing to each wound, getting Dean to hold them while she bandaged around Sam's arm. She checked Sam's pulse again. It was still weak but his breathing was regular, if a little shallow. She was concerned about how cold he was though. He was still in his muddy, soaked jeans so they were next to be cut off and discarded on the floor. "Whoa, Sam's not gonna like that!" Sam was just in his boxers now and she quickly put two thick blankets over him,.

"How's he doing doc?"

"Well it could be worse. The bullet missed the bone and though it nicked an artery, it won't need surgery. The exit wound is a bit messy but overall he's doing okay. Hopefully he's not in shock – I think the loss of blood and the fact he was lying in the cold and wet is what has brought his temperature down. But I need him to wake up to be sure."

"Thanks Michelle."

"What for? It's not like you gave me any choice."

"I know, and I'm sorry it had to be this way, but like I said, he needed help and we couldn't go to the hospital."

"What have you done? Escaped from prison, robbed a bank? Or do I even want to know?"

"Seriously, we're not criminals. But trust me, you don't want to know."

Sam started to wake and moaned as the pain came crashing in on him. He also started shivering violently. Dean was at his side immediately.

"Hey Sammy, how're you doing?"

Sam looked at him through eyes glassy with pain. He was confused about where he was and a strange female face was hovering over him.

"Hi Sam, how are you feeling?"

"Who're you?"

"I'm Michelle – your brother here _persuaded_ me to take a look at your arm. I'm betting it's pretty painful right?"

"Feel sick.." Michelle grabbed a waste paper basket and just got back to Sam before he heaved up the contents of his stomach. She rubbed his back. "It's alright, just a reaction to the pain and shock. You'll feel better now." Sam was shaking and pale and his eyes were watering.

"Dean, can you get some water?" Dean disappeared into the kitchen and was back with a glass of water in seconds. Michelle held it to Sam's lips. "Just take a couple of sips and rinse your mouth out." Sam did as he was told and spat the water into the waste basket. It was a relief to get rid of the acrid taste of bile. He sank back down on the couch and didn't protest as Michelle wiped his face with a damp cloth. The shivering came back with a vengeance and Michelle pulled up the blankets that had fallen away when he vomited, so that they were right up to his chin. He still trembled visibly beneath them.

"I'll get you a hot water bottle. Dean, stay with him in case he needs to be sick again."

Dean nodded. "Sure, it's not as if I haven't done it a hundred times before."

Michelle frowned in puzzlement but went off to get the hot water bottle. These two were a strange pair.

Dean sat on the edge of the couch, contemplating his brother's prone form. This was a bit of a tricky situation. They needed to get out of town as soon as possible. Hendrickson was right on their tail.

When Michelle came back he asked her how long it would be before Sam would be fit to move.

"Well if we can get his temperature up and maybe get some soup or something into him. I can dose him up with painkillers and put his arm in a sling and you're good to go. I wouldn't suggest robbing any banks for a while though."

"Very funny! I told you, we're not bank robbers."

"Well what are you then? And what did you mean when you said 'as if you haven't done it a hundred times before'?"

Dean sighed. "I've been looking out for Sammy since he was a baby, it's kinda my job."

"Why, where were your parents?"

"Long story."

"Dean?" They both looked over at Sam, who was looking right back at them. Clearly a little more alert. He shuffled under the blankets, trying to get more comfortable. "Agh! Did someone say something about painkillers?"

"Hey Sam! Didn't realise you were back with us. Doc here says you'll be up and about once she puts your arm in a sling and doses you up. We need to get going kiddo - you up for it?"

"Sure, I'm.. gaah!" Sam stopped trying to raise himself up to a seated position as agonising pain shot up his arm and shoulder and he slumped back down. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on breathing until the pain subsided back to a constant throb instead of the searing agony of the moment before.

"Okay, painkillers first, then moving." Dean said.

"No, food first, then painkillers. If he takes them on an empty stomach he's just as likely to throw them straight back up."

Michelle headed to the kitchen. "I'll put some soup on. I guess you could use something to eat too?" She called over her shoulder.

"Uh, yeah, that would be great."

Once he knew she was out of ear-shot Dean turned to Sam again.

"Sam, we have to get out of here – Hendrickson'll find the car if we wait much longer. Once you've eaten and taken the painkillers, I'm going to ask Michelle to give me a ride across town so I can bring it back here. If you need to, you can lie down in the back. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. No problem Dean."

Dean went into the kitchen and found Michelle busy making sandwiches and a pan of tinned soup was already simmering on the stove top.

"They're ham and cheese – that's all I've got."

"Hey, that's great, believe me we're not fussy. Thanks for this Michelle. "

"Dean, do you actually have a gun?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Would you really have shot me if I had tried to escape?"

"No, but I was desperate, I had to say something to stop you screaming. Sam and me, we're not bad people. Really."

"But you're on the run. And someone really doesn't like you if they are prepared to shoot you."

Dean didn't respond. He had no intention of telling her about Hendrickson.

"Okay, so you don't want to tell me. Maybe it's best I don't know anyway."

Michelle passed Dean a tray with a bowl of soup and a plate of sandwiches on it. Dean followed her out to the living room where she placed another tray on the coffee table. Dean already had a mouthful of sandwich when she asked him to help her get Sam sitting up.

"This is going to hurt Sam."

Together they heaved Sam up, as gently as they could. He did his best not to scream but the effort showed clearly on his face and his vision swam for a few moments. Eventually he opened his eyes again. "Uh, thanks, I think."

Michelle sat beside him and held a spoonful of soup up to him.

"What are you doing? I can feed myself, I'm not a baby!" He said, indignantly.

"Alright, here, take the bowl but I'd love to know how you are going to hold it and use the spoon with only one good arm."

Sam reddened. "Oh yeah. Sorry." Dean sniggered.

"Shut up Dean."

"What did I say?"

"Okay, stop bickering. Sam, are you going to have this soup or what? If so, open up!"

Sheepishly, Sam opened his mouth and Michelle fed him the soup. He was mortified with embarrassment. Though it did taste pretty good and he could feel it warming him up. When it was finished he was at least able to eat the sandwiches himself.

Dean had wolfed down the food and was anxious to get moving. Michelle agreed to take him to the Impala. So, leaving Sam still eating and with a couple of strong painkillers and a glass of water ready to take, next to him, they left the apartment.

They weren't gone more than 20 minutes, but when they got back, they found Sam out cold on the floor beside the couch. His lips were a pale greyish blue and he didn't appear to be breathing. Michelle got his mouth open and peered in. She couldn't see anything but she noticed one of the sandwiches was only half eaten on the floor next to him.

"I think he choked. Help me get him sitting up." Dean heaved Sam up and Michelle put her arms around his torso, grabbing her hands together and gave a sharp upward tug. Nothing happened.

"Here, let me try." Dean swapped positions with her and did the same, with a little more muscle power behind it. A piece of half-chewed sandwich shot out of Sam's mouth and suddenly he was gasping and coughing and desperately trying to drag air into his lungs. His lips regained their colour surprisingly quickly.

"God Sam, I can't leave you alone for one minute!"

Only when he was breathing somewhat normally again, did Sam notice his arm and shoulder were now a searing mass of agony. He held his injured arm with his good arm to try to support it, as Dean and Michelle dragged him back up onto the couch. With virtually no clothes on, he was cold again, and feeling rather exposed. Dean drew the blankets back over him and he was grateful for the warmth.

"Dude, can I get dressed?"

"Yeah, but Sam I'll need to get you some clothes from the trunk."

"Why?"

Dean held up Sam's shredded jeans.

"Oh my God! What the hell happened?"

"Don't look at me!" Dean nodded meaningfully towards Michelle.

Sam turned hurt eyes towards her.

Michelle melted. This guy was a little bit of a stunner, she had just realised. Actually they were both pretty handsome, but Sam's eyes were mesmerising.

"Sorry Sam. It had to be done. We had to get those soaking wet things off. You were heading towards hypothermia."

Dean had already left to get the clothing for Sam.

Sam was crestfallen at the destruction of his favourite jeans but he understood the need. Michelle handed him the painkillers and water. "Try not to choke on them okay?"

"Funny!" He grumbled, but took the pills together and swallowed them along with a hefty gulp of water.

"They'll kick in pretty fast and I'll give you a week's supply. You'll need them."

"Thanks."

Dean arrived with jeans, tee-shirt and sweat shirt and another jacket.

"Man, my jacket got shredded too?"

"Yup! She didn't take any prisoners – just shredded everything in sight! I wouldn't' want to make her angry!"

"Oh and you think kidnapping me didn't make me angry?"

"Dean – you kidnapped her?" Sam looked up incredulously at his brother.

"Aw, come on now. Kidnapping is such a strong word…" Dean looked slightly abashed.

Both Sam and Michelle were gazing at him.

"Aw, I've had enough of this! Sam, get dressed." He tossed the clothes at Sam.

"Hm, I'm gonna need a hand here!"

"I'll help you." Michelle held the jeans for him and he slipped each leg in, shuffling a fair bit to get them over his hips. Unfortunately they were button fly jeans and Sam didn't know where to look as she reached to do them up for him. .

She helped him on with the tee-shirt and then the sweat shirt. Finally she made a sling for his injured arm and then draped his jacket over his shoulders, only realising as he stood up, just how tall he was.

"Thanks Michelle."

"No problem Sam"

Dean had watched the whole thing with a bemused smirk on his face. They both seemed a little pink-cheeked to him.

"Well this is all very heart-warming, but can we please get going? You know, unless you two want to swap numbers or something?"

"Dean, shut up!"

"Just sayin'… well come on then."

"Michelle, I am really sorry about all of this. I guess you're going to call the cops as soon as we leave?"

Michelle looked at Sam when she answered. "Well I ought to of course. But you didn't hurt me and you haven't stolen anything. And you don't seem like vicious criminals… well not you anyway Sam." She tossed a quirky smile in Dean's direction. He had his trademark hurt face on.

"Funny lady, hilarious. No really, you are!"

They left and Michelle was left with the thought that maybe she had dreamt the whole thing until she went back inside the apartment and saw the pile of shredded clothes.


End file.
